Of Blankets and Fuzzy Slippers
by Swirlums
Summary: A oneshot, from Booth's point of view. Some angst, some cuteness...oh heck, who am I kidding. FLUFF!


Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I wish they were. pout

Spoilers: None. :)

AN: Just a very short little thing that has been bugging me. I hope you enjoy.

** Of Blankets and Fuzzy Slippers**

It's funny how winter just kinda sneaks up on you. One moment, you're griping about the heat, and the next, you're holed up in your house with your heat on full-blast. And, the kicker? It's hotter now in your house than it was all summer, and you still have cold feet...AND you need a blanket draped over your legs while you watch the football game.

This couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that your ice queen partner doesn't seem to feel the cold the way live people tend to. You were forced to stand, (shivering in your poly-blend suit), at her side as she peered at a frozen corpse. You wondered idly if YOUR frozen corpse would be the next to undergo such careful scrutiny. You wondered if the day would ever end, and when it did, you found solace in coffee, pie, football, and a pair of fuzzy slippers given to you last winter by the aforementioned ice queen.

When the doorbell rings, you wonder who the hell would be insane enough to brave the weather just to visit you. You get up and slipper-shuffle across the floor, blanket wrapped around your midsection. The doorknob is chilly, and you wince when you turn it to reveal...

"Bones! Get in here, it's freezing!"

She stands on the stoop for a moment, looking bemused. He realizes how he must look, but also realizes that it is much too late to surreptitiously kick off the slippers and hide the blanket.

"Would you just come in, please?" He tries. "You're letting all the warm out..."

At this, she finally wanders in and he shuts the door behind her, grumbling grumpily.

"Booth, I..." she seems distracted by his slippers for a second, but continues. "I found something out that you might be interested in."

"You couldn't just tell me over the phone?" he asks, stealing a glance at the television.

"Well, I was driving by and saw that your lights were still on..." She grins shyly, and he can't help but grin back at her. He loves it when she uses his lines on him. "I brought hot chocolate. And donuts." She waggles a bag at him, hoping to entice. It works.

He helps her with her coat, stows it away in the hall closet, and then leads her to the couch where he motions for her to sit while he gets some plates. When he returns, she is perched uncomfortably on the very edge of the sofa. He sits beside her, not too close, and sets the plates on the coffee table.

"What's up, Bones?" He queries gently, as he arranges his blanket over his lap once again. She looks at him for a moment, and then stares at his feet. He laughs. "Did you come to reclaim the slippers?"

She chuckles...a low, throaty chuckle that he has come to adore.

"No way. Those...are definitely yours."

"Well, if you don't want the slippers..."

"The victim was still alive when he was dumped in that field. The injuries he sustained were severe, but he might have survived if he hadn't been thrown away like someone's garbage..."

She furrows her eyebrows, searching for the words to convey her feelings, and he feels her inner struggle as though it is his own. Their job is not an easy one, and the cases always affect him...tear his mind apart until he can find a way to justify going back to work and starting all over again. However, he is just beginning to understand the effect the cases have on his partner.

When he had first begun working on cases with her, she had seemed almost pitiless in her pursuit of the truth...as though the victim was nothing more than a tool; a puzzle for her to solve. He knows her better now. Knows that she connects with the victims on levels that he can't ever hope to understand. Their bones tell her who they once were. What they loved, what they hoped for. She listens, tells their stories, and gives them their lives back. She is tireless and exhausted at the same time.

He isn't sure what to say to help her rationalize this particular case. She is right. A human being is not garbage...not meant to be beaten nearly to death and then left to die of exposure. All life is precious, and should be treasured. So, instead of saying anything at all, he simply pulls her against him, and gives her half of his blanket. He feels her stiffen against his side for a moment, and deliberately avoids looking at her until she relaxes and rests her cheek against his shoulder.

They silently watch the football game, giving and taking comfort from one another. Eventually, her eyes slide shut. He draws her just a tiny bit closer, dabs the lightest of kisses on her cheek, and feels honoured that he can, when she lets him, be precisely what she needs.

The donuts and hot chocolate are forgotten.


End file.
